


The Bus Cycle

by likearushtothehead



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, cute gerard, takes place on a bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likearushtothehead/pseuds/likearushtothehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is always that boy on the bus. The boy who you think is cute. He’s on his own, just sitting there. Listening to music or looking out the window. You try not to stare, but fail. You wonder what his name is, how old he is, where he’s going. But you would never dare to sit beside him, oh no, you don’t do that. Except for the one boy that shouts, "Hey you! Sit beside me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bus Cycle

On the bus there are many different types of people. You wait at the bus stop with the sketchy looking old man and stare into the distance, waiting for the bus to round the corner. You check your phone for missed calls, text messages or, most likely, the time. When the bus comes you get on before the sketching looking old man, because he seems to have some magic credit card that lets him on the bus for free, just because he’s the sketchy old man.

You step onto the bus and ask how much it is to go into town. The bald, middle-aged bus driver grunts his replay and you nod, not wanting to anger him, because he looks scary and you’re small. You put your money into the little metal slot and you rip your ticket from it when it comes out. Somehow you will lose this ticket sometime during the journey, but you won’t care.

You look up for a place to sit down. There are always the gossiping old women in the front of the bus. Talking about the neighbours evil little brats compared to their grandchildren or how bad the weather is today. From the time you get on the bus from the time you leave, their conversation will never cease. They seem to be a little bit more pissed off about being on the bus then everyone else, glancing around with a look of distaste on their faces. The sketchy old man always seems to sit nearer to them, which is well, sketchy.

There is always the pregnant woman already holding a baby in her arms with a huge buggy beside her, taking up all the space. She doesn’t bother to fold it up and put it in the proper place. But hey, she’s only on for a few stops anyways. Her baby seems to yelp and cry when you get on, but can be easily tempted with a packet of chocolate buttons.  The woman’s hair is unwashed but the child looks squeaky clean. You usually ignore this person, but don’t we all.

Next there is the person you think looks fermiliar. Do they live near you? Is it one of Joe’s friends? You’re not sure, but when they look back at you they smile so you just smile back thinking ‘who the hell was that?’ It sticks in the back of your head but you only realise who it is after you get off the bus. But by then you can’t do anything about it.

You see the weird looking teenagers playing music you don’t recognise at the back of the bus. It’s usually horrible rubbish and they seem to play the same songs over and over. Or maybe they just all sound alike? You’re not sure, but it’s utter rubbish. But you don’t say anything, coz those teenagers scare the living shit out of you. With their matching hair, plastered on make-up and matching tracksuits. They look awful, but you don’t say that either.

Then there’s the guy who’s just reading or listening to music. He usually doesn’t do much. You don’t annoy him and he doesn’t annoy you. He’s usually one of your favourite people on the bus.

Then there is the woman talking loudly on her phone. She’s speaking quickly in a high pitched tone and doesn’t seem to shut the hell up. People often turn to look at her when she laughs annoyingly loud. Old women tut and gossip.

Then there is that boy. The boy who you think is cute. He’s on his own, just sitting there. Listening to music or looking out the window. You try not to stare, but fail. You wonder what his name is, how old he is, where he’s going. But you would never dare to sit beside him, oh no, you don’t do that. You try to find a seat on your own, and if that fails, sit beside the guy who doesn’t annoy anyone. He won’t care, you won’t care, and it’s all good.

But what happens when ’ **the bus cycle’** as such is broken? When it’s twisted on its head and set on fire? When one of the people do something that isn’t considered normal for them. When the old woman shouts at the teenagers to turn off the music. Broken. When the guy who doesn’t bother anyone talks to you. Broken. When the cute guy calls you to sit beside him. Broken.

“Hey, you!” I heard a voice say as I entered the bus. I jumped a little and looked up. I was standing beside the ‘guy who doesn’t annoy anyone’ about to sit down beside him, as no other seats were free. I look up to see ‘the cute boy’ smiling at me from another seat. “Sit beside me.” He tells me and I look at him weird. Never in my life has a random stranger asked me to sit beside them on the bus. I shrugged and moved to sit beside the boy. He had short, jet black hair the barely reached his neck. He had hazel eyes and little white teeth. He had a weird accent, one that sounded American or something. He was gorgeous and had a cute crooked smile. His pale skin had a soft, pink tint on his cheeks and his eyes squinted in the sun coming through the window.

I sat down hesitantly beside him and he turned and smiled at me, holding out his hand in an awkward angle. I shook it, surprised when a spark flew threw my arm as my skin touched his. I saw him shake slightly, which means he felt it too. Weird. “I’m Gerard.” He smirked crookedly and I smiled back. “I’m Coda.” I tell him and he grins at me.

“So where you headed?” He asks and I sigh. “Just into town to drop something off then get something to eat. You?” I ask him and he shrugs.

“Just got bored and decided to get out of the basement.” Gerard shrugs “I’m not going anywhere in particular, I guess. Just… wondering around.” He explains and I nod, getting what he’s saying. Sometimes you just have to get out of the house, y’know?

We talked for some time after that and I found out a lot about him. He was in a band, though they were only starting, and he also liked art. His best friend was called Ray and his brother’s name was Mikey. The three of them played in a band with a boy called Matt, and they were getting a rhythm guitarist soon. I learnt of his love of Brit pop and fear of needles. We were getting along, but the thing about making friends on the bus is that at some point, you have to get off.

“Well this is my stop.” I tell Gerard sadly and his eyes go wide in panic. Normally, this is when the person says ‘okay then, see you’ but Gerard doesn’t, he- once again- brakes **the bus cycle**. “Y-you said you had to drop something off then go for something to eat? Maybe I could go with you? I’ll even pay for your lunch.” Gerard said with a tempting smirk and a raised eyebrow. I could have left him there. I could have just gotten off the bus and tried to forget about Gerard, but I didn’t. I nodded and told him that was okay. I broke ’the bus cycle’ but I didn’t care.

We both got off the bus laughing and joking. We went to lunch and ended up going to dinner too. I gave him my number and we saw each other almost every day. I went to his band’s rehearsals and became good friends with the new guitarist, Frank. I went to their gigs and cheered them on. Eventually the band got big, like I knew it would and Gerard asked me to be his girlfriend, which I also knew would happen soon enough. The band put out their first album, and then toured Europe and America. I went with them, and endured the harsh words and comments about me. When the tour ended, we came back and Gerard and I were happier than ever. We got engaged, and we had two beautiful little babies. Soon after we got married, and have been ever since.

So the next time that you get on the bus, in front of the sketchy old man; walk past the old women, the woman with the baby, the teenagers, the woman on the phone and the average guy and walk up to the cute boy. Sit beside him and get to know him. Don’t let that chance slip away and break **the bus cycle** coz you never know if this buses’ cute boy is _your_ cute boy.


End file.
